


Not My Alpha

by Dancing_with_Devils



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Because Stiles has pissy werewolf issues, Gen, Nice Peter, Not completely Scott friendly, Pack Dynamics, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_with_Devils/pseuds/Dancing_with_Devils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to bite Stiles to save his life, Scott fully expects Stiles to be his most loyal beta. But things don't always go according to plan, especially with Stiles involved.</p><p>Come find me on <a href="http://il-gomito-sinistro.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not My Alpha

Stiles knew he should be dead. He’d felt the gunshot, heard Lydia’s wail, and felt the pulsing of his chest in time with his heart. He hadn’t been able to see anything but grey by the time he heard Scott’s panicked voice, and only vaguely remembered asking him to watch out for his dad.

Now he was… awake. Sort of. Exhausted, definitely, but awake. His eyes flitted from the ceiling once he realized he was in the vet’s office to his left, where he heard soft breaths. No one had moved yet, so apparently no one noticed he was awake. He let out a soft huff of irritation. If Derek or Cora were there, they would have noticed his change in heart rate and breathing immediately. Not for the first time, he wished they would come back, because as much as he loved Scott, he was pretty crap at being an Alpha.

Oh, well, nothing for it… He sat up slowly, taking a deep breath and letting his hand explore his chest. No scar, no mark, no pain. Aww, yeah, give it up for werewolf healing at least. That was definitely as awesome as he always thought it would be. If only it didn’t come with the anger management issues and furry pms. He looked around the room, noticing that Isaac and Lydia were slumped next to each other, sleeping. The clothes they were wearing were still torn and bloody, and he was hit with a wave of affection that Lydia was more concerned with him than cleaning herself up.

He swung his legs around and was met with a concerned look from Deaton, who’d managed to sneak up on him anyway. “Oh my god! So much for nifty werewolf superpowers. Where did you even come from? Did you slip out of a trap door? Is there a hidden base under the vet’s office? Seriously.”

Deaton just shook his head. “How are you feeling, Mr. Stilinski?”

“I’m… I’m all right. A little confused. I’m pretty sure I was dead for a bit there. I remember Scott’s voice, and that’s about it… speaking of which, where is Scotty?” He slapped his leg and whistled. “Here, Scotty… here boy!” He blinked when that failed to produce his best friend. “Uh, Deaton? Where is Scott? I mean, shouldn’t he be, I dunno, _here_ for when I wake up? I mean, I know that stuff needs done, but…”

“He had to take Allison back to her father and let him know the rogue werewolves where taken care of. He said he’d be back by morning.” Deaton started tidying the exam room. “He left Lydia and Isaac to care for you if needed.”

“Woah, wait, hold up. One sec.” Stiles jumped off the table, balling his hands into fists. “What if something went wrong? What if I woke up feral or something? He left _Lydia_ here? I’d have rather he left Peter, for fuck’s sake! What the hell was he thinking?!”

Isaac was suddenly between Deaton and Stiles, holding his hands up and flashing gold eyes at the shorter teen. “Calm down, Stiles. You’re going to change if you don’t calm yourself down.”

“Seriously, Isaac? Seriously?! Who the hell do you think _taught_ Scott all of that?” He slammed his fist into the steel exam table, turning away from them to calm his breathing. A panic attack would not help anything. He had more control than that, he knew he did.

“Get Lydia out of here, Isaac.”

“Stiles…” The strident voice from the corner made him growl softly. “Stiles, calm down this minute.” Lydia stepped around, keeping the table between them. “And don’t you dare growl at me. I didn’t put up with it from Jackson or Aidan, I’m sure as hell not putting up with it from you.”

Stiles closed his eyes, leaning against the table. “Ok, this is what’s going to happen. Isaac, call Scott. Tell him to get his furry butt to my house, with my Jeep, because I know he’s using it. Lydia, my sweet warrior princess, please go home. I’m fine, but I need to not be around people right now. I’ll call you in the morning.” He managed a smile, opening his eyes and nodding at her. “Thank you for staying, though. You light up my world.”

“You’re full of it, Stilinski, but you’re still ours.” She stepped around the table and kissed his cheek, letting out a small giggle when he obviously sniffed her hair and nuzzled against her ear. She spun and walked out, letting Stiles turn his attention to Isaac.

“You’re not on the phone. This is a thing that has to be done now. I’m going home – No. I’m going to the old Hale House. Scott can meet me there. If Dad sees me without the Jeep, he’s gonna flip.”

“Stiles, that might not be such a good idea. As a new wolf, you shouldn’t be…”

“Alone, yeah, I got that. But ya know what? I seem to have left all my fucks in my other pants. So, that’s where I’ll be if anyone needs me, because I’m not running the risk of my dad getting hurt. The only person who might be there is Peter, and frankly, I wouldn’t mind hurting him. So there’s that, too. See ya!”

Stiles stalked out of the vet’s office and headed straight for the woods. He crouched as soon as he was past the tree line and out of sight. His senses were, for lack of a better word, coming online. He knew it was too dark for human eyes to see anything, but he could see as if the sun had barely set. He smelled the musk of small animals and could even hear them, though it seemed that his ears weren’t quite keeping up with the rest of him yet – sounds kept flitting in and out of his range.

“Well, you’re not gonna get anywhere standing around. Let’s see what a Stilinski can do with nifty powers, hmm?” With that less-than-stellar pep talk, Stiles stretched his legs out and started jogging through the forest. After a couple of minutes and no tripping (which he was very excited for, better balance and super healing were pretty much the huge draws to being a werewolf in the first place), he picked up the pace. It wasn’t long before he was flying through the woods; the trees blurred into dark grey blobs until he crested the last hill and the burned out hull that was once the Hale House came into view.

He slid to a stop, his body automatically crouching so he could slow himself with both hands and feet. This was actually kinda cool, all hurt feelings and crappy decisions aside. He wasn’t crude enough to make himself at home in Derek’s old house, but he did settle on the front porch, stretching his legs out in front of him and tapping out a random beat on the rotted, charred wood railing.

While he waited, he checked his phone (hallelujah, it was _not_ broken for once, though he’d have to get a new case – not sure if blood stained plastic). His dad had called once, so he hit the callback and leaned back. It was getting easier and easier to lie… something else he hated, but his dad’s job was dangerous enough. He wasn’t adding to it.

“Hey, Dad, sorry I missed your call. Yeah, my phone was on silent. Yeah… Oh, Scott borrowed my car to take Allison home. Yup. He’d better, or I’ll beat his ass. Ha ha… yeah, ok. Be careful, ok Dad? Love you too.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Scott finally showed up, the moon was making its way towards the western horizon and Stiles was out of patience. He had circled the house about a dozen times, moving faster each time until the wind whistling past his ears had actually hurt. He’d leapt up a couple trees, fallen with a yelp that he was glad no one was around to hear, and counted leaves on the ground. He’d chased a raccoon for a bit, but that lost its appeal when a more feral part of him wanted to catch it and rip its throat out. Now, he was just bored and pissed. He waited until Scott was halfway across the yard before speaking.

“So how’s Allison? Everything ok? You didn’t leave her underwear in my Jeep again, did you?”

“Woah, Stiles, what’s wrong?” Scott held his hands up and tilted his head, looking confused and hurt.

“What’s wrong? _What’s wrong_?! ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.” He spun and stalked away before turning back. “What’s wrong is that instead of being there when I woke up, you left Lydia. Lydia, Scott. Ya know… mostly human? I mean, yay cool, she’s a banshee and all, but what if something happened, Scott? What if I couldn’t control myself?!” He was breathing harshly, glaring at his best friend.

“I left Isaac there, Stiles… you wouldn’t have been able to…”

“Isaac is _pathetic_ , Scott!! He’s a great guy and all, but seriously, he’s a crappy wolf. What the hell was so important that _the Alpha_ had to take care of it instead of sending Lyds or Isaac?”

“Allison was injured, I wanted to-”

“I FUCKING DIED!” He roared, eyes flashing bright gold in the darkness. “Does that mean nothing to you?! At all?!”

Scott straightened, flashing his red eyes and snarling. “Of course it does, Stiles. I had things I had to do.”

Stiles had seen Derek’s eyes and roar cow Isaac, had watched him get the betas to obey simply by flashing red at them. He’d seen Isaac and Peter do the same thing with Scott, bowing to their Alpha. But all he felt was pissed, and hurt. The red eyes were a challenge, and he met that challenge with a reverberating howl.

“Stiles…” Scott took a step back, holding his hands up. He didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to answer the challenge that he could feel thrumming through his blood.

Stiles’ wolf took the step back as a sign of weakness, and if he was being honest, Stiles couldn’t argue with it. He growled, his head rolling a bit on his neck as fangs lengthened in his mouth. The shift felt odd, but less painful than he expected. Sharp claws raked the air as he crouched and growled.

“Stiles, stop.” Scott made another attempt to cow him, flashing eyes and fangs. He didn’t expect this from Stiles, figured as a beta, his best friend would be his staunchest supporter. “That’s enough. You don’t want to do this.”

“The hell I don’t.” The words were garbled slightly by the fangs, but he figured Scott got the message when he launched himself at the Alpha, slashing at his face and chest. Scott dove backwards, just barely avoiding the attack. Rolling away, he howled, summoning his pack. Something had gone wrong, he’d messed something up and Stiles was feral.

Peter was the first out of the woods and he darted forward, knocking Stiles across the clearing and into a large oak. He glanced back at Scott. “What happened?”

“I-I don’t know! I got out here and he just… he started to get upset so I tried to calm him down and he just… he roared at me and started attacking!” Scott tried to move around Peter, but the older wolf stopped him.

“He’s an omega, Scott. He hasn’t accepted you as his Alpha. You need to do something to get him to accept you.” Peter shook his head, turning back to Stiles, who was pacing along the treeline. “Stiles… you need to accept Scott. You’ll be an omega, you’ll be packless. Don’t do that to yourself.”

Stiles growled and crouched again. “I’m not packless. I have a pack.” He curled his lip at Scott, moving back from the two werewolves, but watching them warily. When Isaac loped out of the woods, his growl softened a bit, but he kept his eyes trained on them, waiting for a new attack.

Peter blinked, stepping back and straightening. “He won’t attack unless we go after him. Just back up for a minute.” He waited until Scott and Isaac had straightened as well. “What do you mean you have a pack, Stiles? We’re your pack.” He narrowed his eyes when Stiles snorted.

“Some of you are my friends, but you’re not my pack. Pack is trust. You can’t be trusted.”

Isaac took a step forward, tilting his head. “Scott bit you, Stiles, to save you. He’s your Alpha, you can trust him.”

“He’s not my Alpha.” Stiles smirked a bit when Scott gasped. “Not my Alpha. Not mine.”

Peter held up a hand, stopping Scott from responding. “I may have an idea, but I’m not sure it’s going to work.” When Scott nodded, Peter looked back to Stiles. “You may stay here for a bit. This place is as safe as any, and will keep you away from your father. But you’ll need help on the full moon, Stiles. I’ll speak with Lydia about coming out here; Isaac said you were all right with her.”

The teen tilted his head for a minute then nodded. “Just Lydia.”

Peter quickly herded Scott and Isaac from the clearing, despite Scott’s protests. In the early morning air, Stiles could hear the eldest Hale asking the not-Alpha for permission to do something. He really couldn’t find it in himself to care… he was pretty sure whatever Peter was cooking up, he’d hate.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, Stiles was going a little stir crazy. He had the entire forest to run in, but he was too worried that he’d hurt someone or run into Scott to make the trek back to town. Lydia stopped in with food and clothes and told him that Scott had kept up the cover story of an extended sleepover. As much as Scott wasn’t his Alpha, he was still his best friend and Stiles was grateful that hadn’t changed. They texted, hesitantly at first, but it had gotten easier as long as Stiles couldn’t smell him.

Being a werewolf, despite his suddenly complicated relationships, was a lot easier than he thought it was when he was helping Scott. He enjoyed playing with his new senses in both senses. He found that his nose wasn’t much better in his beta form, though overall it was infinitely better than when he was human. His hearing had expanded exponentially, and was even better when he was shifted, as was his sight. He wasn’t nearly as clumsy anymore, but his ADD was still present. It was fascinating, and he was grateful that Lydia had brought his laptop so he could record his personal findings next to the rest of his werewolf research.

It had been a restless three days, despite everything. He found himself wandering, chattering to himself as he paced the woods around the Hale House. The sun was just starting to set as he broke the tree line and made his towards the house. He stopped short with a soft growl when he noticed someone standing on the porch. It took a moment for his brain to register that the form was familiar, then he was running.

“Derek!” He had just been planning on decking the ex-Alpha, ranting at him for leaving. His wolf apparently had other ideas, because he found his face buried against Derek’s neck with his arms wrapped around his chest.

Slowly, carefully, Derek’s arms came up and surrounded him, pulling him in tightly and nuzzling his shoulder. “Idiot… I told you to stay out of trouble.” His voice was softer, somehow, as if the time spent away had soothed the rough edges that Beacon Hills had ground into him.

Stiles took a deep breath before tilting his head to the side, baring his neck. He knew that Derek wasn’t an Alpha, but he trusted him. As much as they pissed each other off, the older wolf had always been there for him, and he knew Derek though the same way.

“Stiles, what are you doing? I’m not…”

“I know. I know… just… you’re Pack, Derek. You and Cora, and my dad. I don’t… no one else. I can’t…” He struggled, trying to put the vague feelings into something concrete. His head rested against Derek’s shoulder, craving contact after cutting himself off for so long. “I love Scott and Lydia, I do. But… they’re not pack. They don’t… I can’t trust them, Sourwolf. Not with this. I guess…” He paused, took a deep breath and tried again. “I don’t know any other way to say it. My wolf, as weird as that sounds right now… I don’t think I’m gonna get used to that any time soon – my wolf doesn’t trust them like it trusts you.” He sighed softly in relief when Derek nodded.

“I’m not an Alpha, Stiles. I understand what you’re saying, but… Cora and I aren’t really a pack, you know?”

“Better…” Stiles blushed brightly, pulling away in embarrassment. “You’re family.”

Derek frowned then nodded. He lifted his head and called out. “Cora, it’s fine. Come on.”

Stiles felt something settle in his chest when he saw the youngest Hale and he smiled as she loped over and knocked their heads lightly together. “Heya, Baby Hale. Nice vacation?” It came out a little shaky, but Cora just smiled back and crowded them both against Derek.

“Yup. I’ve got blackmail pictures. Der actually smiled. It was freaky.” Stiles laughed when Derek growled, ducking his head to rest against his broad chest.

“You’d better have pictures, I didn’t think he knew how.” He sighed, his body relaxing between the Hales. “I guess I need to talk to Scott…”

He sent a quick text, asking Scott to come to the Hale House before curling back up between Derek and Cora. By the time Scott arrived, Stiles was curled against Derek’s chest with Cora’s head on his lap. They all looked up as the engine on the dirt bike cut and the Alpha walked cautiously across the yard.

“Stiles? Are you… is everything ok?”

The urge to growl and snap was gone, leaving Stiles looking at his best friend, his brother-from-another-mother with a sad smile. “I’m better. Scotty, I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean… I don’t really know what all that was about.” He untangled himself to stand, meeting Scott a few feet from the front steps.

“It’s ok. Peter… well, he explained a few things. I… I haven’t always been there when I should have been. And even when I was… you were always Batman, Stiles. I never even thought about it that way until all this happened. And Lydia and Peter… I guess the less said about them, the better.” Scott gave a rueful little smile, holding his arms out. “Can we…  I mean… Stiles, you’re my brother. You’ve kept me alive, you’ve kept me sane… I don’t want to lose that.”

“You haven’t. I just… I couldn’t. With them, with you. Not without…” He glanced back at the Hales before turning again and giving Scott a bone crushing hug. “Derek has risked his life for me, and you know I’ve done the same for him. Cora has always been at my back, even if she’s wanted to kill me a couple times. They’re… they’ve always been pack, Scott. My pack.”

“I get that. At least I do now. What… what are you guys planning on doing now?” Scott spoke softly into his hair, hugging back just as hard.

Stiles shrugged, stepping back after a minute and moving back to the porch. Cora hooked her chin over his shoulder, grinning at Scott. Derek shifted up and brushed their shoulders together. “I’m not sure. I mean… I can’t leave yet. It’ll be easier once I go for college, but…”

“No, no, don’t leave. Not for this. I get… I understand that you don’t want me as your Alpha. I mean, it makes my wolf want to claw the wall, but we get it. What about… well…” He looked at Derek. “Your uncle told me about something like… it’s kinda like a pack-adjacent thing. You guys stay, as ‘guests’ of my pack, and you can pretty much come and go as you like, but you’re safe here. He said it’s more common in…”

“…cities and college towns where a pack has laid roots.” Derek finished for him, nodding. “My parents had a couple families that were like that. They were mostly vacationers. It’s a good idea.”

Stiles turned to look at Cora. “Is that cool with you, Baby Hale?” He yelped when she pinched his side.

“Stop calling me that, ass. And yeah, anything you and Der want is fine with me.” She shifted forward again, nuzzling his neck.

“Ok, I guess it’s decided.” Derek stood up, holding his hand out to Scott. They shook and Scott’s shoulders dropped, letting the tension drain from him. He grinned brightly; looking exactly like the puppy Stiles teased him of being. He left shortly after, calling back that he’d let his pack know what was going on.

Scott would always be his best friend and his brother; they’d been through too much for that to ever change. But he would never be his Alpha; that spot was taken in his junior year by a grumpy wolf who was still relearning how to smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify for a couple of people: This fic is not intended to be a Scott-bashing fic. Stiles is a VERY newly turned werewolf, and his emotions, especially anger, run high and don't always make him think logically. (Let us not forget that Scott quite intentionally made out with the 'love' of Stiles' life when he was newly turned.
> 
> Also, IN MY OPINION (and yes, that's all in caps, because apparently some people don't get that this is a work from my headcanon, and does not necessarily cleave to canon TW) Stiles has always been the leader of the Scott/Stiles friendship. Mind you, I ADORE their friendship. I love how loyal Stiles is, and how he knows he can be himself around Scott because they are brothers despite it all. That being said, the very first scene we see is Stiles convincing Scott to go with him to the woods, in the dark, to find dead bodies. We see Scott asking for help and Stiles busting his ass doing research and even locking Scott up to keep him safe for his first full moon. (All things that an Alpha would have done if Scott wasn't the victim of Peter's insanity). We see Stiles mention that 'all of a sudden' he feels like Robin to Scott's Batman. Scott's asthma would have made it difficult for him to plan too many activities pre-wolf, and Stiles' habit of research and planning make me believe that he would have taken the lead on any escapades they got into. 
> 
> All of this rambling is basically to say this. Scott and Stiles will always be best friends, will always be brothers. But Stiles' wolf would not see Scott's as 'his' Alpha, because in Stiles' hindbrain, he's always been the one taking care of Scott, not the other way around. Again, this is my personal headcanon. You don't have to like it, or agree with it. I write what makes me happy. :)


End file.
